THREE LESSONS FROM MY FIRST VISIT TO ECD

My first visit to the Eastern Central Africa Division (ECD) took longer than expected. I called Seth Oirere, an accountant at the ECD to confirm the exact matatu number -126- from the city center – railways station. On boarding the matatu I never assumed to confirm from the matatu “conductor” and pleaded with him to a ride me at the gates of the ECD. I was buoyed that the driver too over heard my longing and resonated for the same.


Amid some reading I keenly kept an observatory eye: reading posters of institutions, churches, clubs, organizations and markets. But, all this were never my target, notwithstanding that the travel turned out to be an adventure of sorts. I come in terms with the location of some institutions of interest – Nairobi National Park, one of them.


As the distance lengthened with the sun accelerating to its western abode, my instinct grew even keener, my eye sight even better to mistake or confuse reading posters on both sides of the road. On reading, “Central…, SDA Church,” I alerted the driver of my destination. I got out of the matatu. As I crossed the road the speeding matatu stopped at some safe distance as they signaled for me to “come.” I went running, “is that where you were going, the driver and his conductor,” inquired? The rest of the passengers kept a confused gesture: “Oh, yes that is my destination – that is where I was going.” I insisted. They paused a little, “your destination ECD - is some distance from here,” They seemed to insist as I thanked them for their concern. The matatu sped away as I hurried to ECD.


Lo and behold, I had gotten out of the matatu at the – Central Kenya Conference offices – 400m away from the main road! I had misread the poster! The matatu had long gone! “I wish I had listened to the matatu operators,” I regretted.


I arrived some minutes late and paid more money to arrive at ECD. Many believers have arrived at wrong destinations, in doctrines, beliefs, operation, and living; and are walking towards a wrong direction in their lifestyles, dogmas, thinking and attitude, not that the Bible is not clear but they have misread it – with an obvious misinterpretation coupled with a total failure to be open minded to listen to the driver (Jesus), his conductor (the Holy Spirit), and fellow travelers (believers). I learned that I need to continuously listen to corrections and warnings, for my keen readings might be utterly wrong.


This time of the year Rongai was dry, save the persistent acacia trees that echoed the past wet season. As Seth took me around, I never failed to marvel and admire the lovely bond behind the glassy reception at the ECD administration offices, from this peak of Rongai you can’t fail to contrast the stretching vast brown sights – of withering and dead plants. Yes, the well dressed gardens crowned it all. This time of the evening, irrigation was going on in some three pieces of the gardens: The vegetables were deep green and healthy like those on the banks of a river.


This was a lesson too, that despite the moral decay littering and chocking the entire world, with personal choice to water our souls with living water and nurture our inner life we can be the salt and the light in the present world.


These adventures are decorations that surround the reason of my visit: to get some journals and literature from the Division through Seth. With the understanding of the sacrifice of publishing journals to meet every need, I was privileged to obtain some copies of The Adventist Journal of Education, College and University Dialogue, Signs of the Times, yes, “ as you can be able to carry,” Adventist World(AW) copies.


I never carried as many copies of the Adventist World as I was able to. I was more of concerned with my interest but not with the rest of the world as the heading intend it to be. But the two reams that I carried as my small bag can carry, have been here to teach me a lesson altogether. “You mean these are meant for me,” said the joyful Purity Betty as I gave her his copies of the AW and a copy of Signs of the Times. “Have you left some for our house (read room),” inquired expectant Dennis as I was handing Betty the copies. “You can give some, to give our friends in the next doors,” John informed me as I was giving him his two copies. All my fellow residents treated this literature as very special gift!


The following day I was in the heart of the city, in the cyber cafe, where I usually get internet services. I decided to give two copies of the AW to the ladies who are managing the computers. With happiness she heartily gave one of the copies to an elderly lady, who too was a customer. She diligently looked at the magazine: “I knew,” she said, “this is from the SDA, they publish lots of books and literature,” she paused. “They are so rich to read,” she concluded as she compared it with a magazine from another denomination, warning us, “Those can destroy you young people.” She gladly walked away, the AW embraced in her hand with overflowing smiles.


Another day I was in a community library, sponsored by Goal International for the slum dwellers in outskirts of the city. From the above experiences – I had to carry some of the AW. After completing using the services I called upon the attention of one of the librarians who gladly received them, “thanks” a mid the enthusiasm of perusing them.


What a challenge, I have seen piles of the AW lying idle in Nairobi Central Church, where I often worship when I’m in Nairobi. When I inquired from the receptionist at the East Africa Union of a copy of AW: “there are piles in the other side,” she told me. At the Division I vividly remember that pile, sealed in a polythene paper, the wood under were turning into soil from the termites in this cite, as I carried a handful copies.


Here is my third lesson, let us share our literature to the world: to all who we encounter. None of us can tell of the ripple effect: an appreciation, a smile…, not enough – the message of hope therein for the human race.